


Useless

by theundeadsiren (rhoen)



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 09:15:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3062285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhoen/pseuds/theundeadsiren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zombie's can't get it up. Simon struggles to comes to terms with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Useless

**Author's Note:**

> Secret Santa thing for [thekhoshekhsmeow](http://thekhoshekhsmeow.tumblr.com/thekhoshekhsmeow).
> 
> Un-beta'd, my apologies. I hope it's okay though?

**You cannot take this fic and edit or reupload it - in whole or in part - without my express permission. This includes translations.**  

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Thank you for respecting my wishes

* * *

 

Simon thinks he’s beautiful.

Everything about Kieren captures his imagination. He wonders if he will ever stop finding new ways to fall for the astonishing young Redeemed. It can be the smallest thing - the way Kieren’s little finger sticks out as he ties his laces, the nervous little smile he gives at the end of a statement - but it will completely captivate Simon, and he’ll find himself smiling at the idiosyncrasy. He learns them all, commits each motion and memory to mind. There is nothing about Kieren that doesn’t hold his interest.

Simon wishes he would speak more often. It’s usually Simon reading the poetry or prose out loud, while Kieren is working on a drawing or curled in his arms. It’s a crime, Simon things. He loves Kieren’s voice. He has grown fond of even the accent - something that had sounded so alien to his ears at first. It wasn’t familiar, or poetic and graceful in the ways he knew, but he found himself liking it. He still smiles at the way Kieren pronounces particular words, and will gently tease him for it, all the while smiling, and then kissing him. To be honest, a lot of things lead to Simon kissing Kieren.

He just wishes the kissing could lead to something more.

There are moments where Simon experiences a pain he never knew existed. He aches for Kieren in a way he’s sure isn’t supposed to be possible. Living, he’d know how to deal with it, how to work towards what he wants. Undead, he is trapped. He finds himself looking at Kieren, wishing he could go so much further, and all the while hating himself for the thoughts he has. What they have is pure. It’s built on trust, respect and understanding. Simon shouldn’t want to taint it with such base desires.

But he can’t help himself.

When they fall asleep together, Kieren in his arms, Simon lies awake, every nerve ending in his unfeeling body somehow alight, burning with a desperate need he wishes he couldn’t experience. Rationally, he knows he cannot experience physical pain, but this… he doesn’t know what else it is he feels as he lies there, so close yet so far from the person he loves most in the world. It feels awful. There is a chasm between them. No matter how tightly they hold on, they can never cross it.

Alive, Simon never really cared for sex. It was there, or it wasn’t. Often, he had other things on his mind. Undead, Simon hadn’t even thought about the useless organ between his legs until he’d met Kieren, until they’d grown together and the natural progression a relationship would take was completely unavailable to them. For the first time, it had occurred to Simon that he wasn’t even a man any more. The only thing that identified him as the gender he was were his thoughts and the physical body he occupied. It was still his own, he still controlled it, but that part of himself that he wanted to have was gone.

Kieren didn’t seem like the kind of person to mind, to need a physical relationship to show how he felt, or how close he was to someone. Before, Simon would have considered himself the same, but now…

Simon felt like he shouldn’t think such things about Kieren. He shouldn’t think about his lips elsewhere when they kissed; as his hand held Kieren’s he shouldn’t remember the way he used to masturbate and think about Kieren doing the same, how he’d look, how he’d react if it were Simon’s hand on him, not his own; his thoughts when Kieren laughed should be on how beautiful the sound was, not on imagining how he’d moan in pleasure above Simon if they were… if they could…

Simon tried to turn away. Sometimes he had to do so physically. He was ashamed of the way he felt. Kieren was far too beautiful to be thought of in such an impure way. But he couldn’t help it. Simon couldn’t stop the thoughts. He wished he could, because not only did he feel like he was debasing Kieren, it also reminded him painfully every day of what he’d lost, of what he wasn’t. All he had left were his words and a handful of gestures that weren’t even properly felt. His own affirmation that the Rising had set the Undead free felt untrue in his own mind now. He wasn’t free to love Kieren in all the ways he wanted to.

Sometimes Simon would lie there, hand absentmindedly running over Kieren’s side as they lay together, eyes focusing on the progress, trying not only feel something himself but also see a reaction from Kieren. Other times he’d stand alone in the locked bathroom, hands on his own skin, desperately searching for that one spot where he still had enough feeling for something to feel good, for his useless body to respond. If he could cry, Simon knew he would in those moments. He wanted nothing more than feeling back. He wanted to be able to give Kieren something more than just words, comfort and company.

Kieren had caught him leaving the bathroom one day, and rather than try and come up with a lame excuse as to why of the Undead would be in such a useless room, he’d just dropped his shoulders in defeat, admitting he’d been trying to find a part of his body that reacted. Kieren had seemed surprised, and had asked why, pointed out the obvious - PDS couldn’t feel the same as the living. Simon knew. It hurt. He’d sadly admitted that he wanted to.

And then Kieren had suggested that he try. They both knew it wouldn’t make a difference; without watching what Kieren was doing, it would be hard to even tell where he was touching, but in that moment Simon felt so lost and isolated that he nodded, agreeing. He needed the contact.

Perhaps they’d been naked - at least semi-naked - together when changing clothes at some point. Simon didn’t know. But after Kieren led him through to the bedroom, Simon found himself slowly stripped of his clothes, Kieren’s hands carefully tugging and lifting away the layers. As his top was dropped to the floor and Kieren’s pale, slender hands brushed over Simon’s chest, he let out a dry sob. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t feel it.

Kieren had asked if he wanted to stop. Simon shook his head. Despite the pain, the way he was being torn apart and crushed by desperation and disappointment, he couldn’t turn away the touch.

When Kieren knelt, unfastening his jeans and tugging them down, Simon wanted to tell him to stop. He couldn’t face the idea of Kieren seeing the entirety of his useless body. It was hideous. Simon couldn’t even look himself. But somehow Kieren could. His hands and lips still played over Simon’s unresponsive skin, seeking out a part of him that was maybe more alive that the rest.

No matter how awful Simon felt, or how little he could actually physically sense, the way Kieren touched him gave him strength. Despite the fact he couldn’t respond, the accepting attention given to every part of his body made him feel okay. Kieren didn’t laugh. He didn’t pull away in disgust or disappointment when his attention didn’t receive any response.

It was the first time Simon had been naked in front of Kieren, never mind the fact it was the first time they’d done anything so physical and clearly bordering on sexual. It would be too, if Simon could respond the way he knew he should. He felt raw, completely exposed. When Kieren stood, gently asking _me too?_ , something shifted. Kieren wanted to put himself in the same completely exposed position, to give Simon that control over him that Kieren had held just moments ago. Simon had simply nodded, hands moving to help Kieren out of his clothes. As he’d lain Kieren down on the bed and let his hands for the first time run over the entirety of Kieren’s body, he supposed this was as close to sex as they were ever going to get.

Simon had been wrong. That first time had been tentative, despite Kieren’s confidence, and he’d been desperately searching for something, and frustrated when he couldn’t find it. Even with Kieren, he had failed. But it had opened the door to something more. Simon couldn’t help but notice how Kieren touched him so much more. His fingers traced absentminded circles on the back of Simon’s hand, or he paid particular attention to one particular spot of Simon’s neck when they kissed, as if the repeated touch and motion could will the nerves back to life. It didn’t seem to work, but the contact and the comfort the intention brought him weren’t things Simon would turn away. He tried to return the actions.

Kieren had suggested they try again. This time, it felt more relaxed. The desperation to feel something, to respond, was still there, but Simon could look past that and focus on how good the attention felt. Kieren still wanted him. He didn’t find Simon’s body disgusting or unnatural.

Lying together that evening, Kieren curled in Simon’s arms, Kieren had asked what Simon would do if they were living, if they could have sex. Simon had hesitated, and in that brief moment, Kieren had turned in his arms, looking at Simon in the glow of the streetlight. _Show me?_ , he’d begged. Simon had just kissed him. He didn’t know where to begin.

He’d tried though. As he’d moved his hands down over Kieren’s body, a soft voice had begged him to talk too, to say what he wanted to do. Simon had never done anything like it before, and was painfully aware of how cheap and tacky his words would sounds, but Kieren just smiled blissfully and sighed at them as Simon talked him through each step: how he’d slowly undress Kieren first, making sure to kiss over every inch of skin as it was revealed to him; how he’d kiss Kieren as his hand shifted lower to tease him as his other guided Kieren to help Simon push off his own clothes; the way he’d press their bodies together, feeling every inch of skin against skin, grinding against Kieren. Where he could, he coupled the words with action, weight pressing down on Kieren’s slender body, lips finding and teeth gently teasing at his earlobe as he whisper those words to him in the darkness. Simon didn’t even know what he’d want more - to top or bottom. His words faltered for a moment, until the fact that he was the one mostly in control made the decision for him. The soft noises of encouragement from Kieren let him know he’d made the right choice.

Somehow, being so close to Kieren and just talking about finding release brought Simon a kind of satisfaction he’d never imagined. Beneath him, safely held in his arms, Kieren seemed just as content. Now sleepily touching the side of his face and kissing him, Kieren smiled up at Simon. _That was good_ , he breathed, putting more air into the statement than was needed to voice the words.

Simon couldn’t help but smile back at him, happy. He agreed, but instead found himself saying something different: _I love you, Kier_. It didn’t matter that they weren’t the right words though. They weren’t unwelcome or out of place. It was just a fact, one that it seemed to make Kieren unbelievably happy to hear.

As they curled up again, ready to sleep, Kieren took Simon’s hand in his own and held it over his heart. Were they alive, Simon knew he would feel it beating. For once, though, he didn’t mind the absence of it. Falling asleep, he could imagine how it would feel, and knew that it would hold the same rhythm as his own.


End file.
